


Between Beats

by HalcyonFrost



Series: Where We Start [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Canon Divergence - Thor: The Dark World, Canon Temporary Character Death, Depression, Illusions, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Introspection, Loki Angst, Loki Needs a Hug, M/M, Magic, Not Really Character Death, Suicidal Thoughts, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-04
Updated: 2016-10-20
Packaged: 2018-07-19 12:31:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7361581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HalcyonFrost/pseuds/HalcyonFrost
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Accompanying fic bits and ficlets for "Only A Heartbeat", my Frostiron AU of the MCU Civil War storyline. Varying POV, currently mostly Loki POV.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Dream of Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki's illusion with his fur cloak went a little differently.

Nothing in all the worlds was like it - having the adulation of a realm that had spent so many centuries cheering that much harder for Loki's brother. His _not_ -brother. The applause was like a wave crashing over Loki, cheers and claps and voices calling and praising him as he ascended the stairs to the dais and to the status that awaited him. It lifted him up and held his heart higher than a lantern soaring for the rafters. There was _nothing_ else like this.

Loki had spent far too long dreaming of such a moment, knew he shouldn't dwell on fantasies and always berated himself afterwards in his despair and self-deprecation, but what else was he to do? He finally had it, and his happiness was in no small part thanks to the richly adorned human stepping up beside him. The man whose colors Loki had cloaked himself in with a curtain of vibrant red and a thick mantle of gray and black fur over his shoulders while Stark dressed the same but with a cloak of verdant green - dressed in _Loki's_ colors for all of Asgard to see.

Tony Stark, a shield-brother of the mighty Thor, had chosen _Loki_ to tie himself too. Loki could dream no better.

Eyes as deep and dark as Asgard's farthest cosmos were lit with the brightness of the crowd and the room, and now they shone like warm honey Loki was liable to get stuck in even further than he already had. Stark's hand in his felt like a ghost - too surreal to believe it was there, but Loki followed Stark's lead in desperate hope. Together, they raised their clasped hands over their heads in a public statement that said even more than words could. Loki's chest ached deep in the center of his being, a dull pang again when Stark looked back over to him with such affection. Pride with his association. Pride with Loki. Oh, how he wanted to slide both hands under Stark's cloak and draw him in closer, felt the temptation to move crawl up his spine-

"Loki."

Loki faltered but wouldn't release the hand that his barely touched for fear of it fading. Stark said nothing, but it hadn't been him who had spoken. Loki lowered his arm, and Stark mirrored him, the people's applause sounding more like static now than anything real.

"An unexpected sight." She spoke up again, and Loki pivoted to face his mother. "What are you doing?"

He pulled his best carefree grin on and tried to draw himself back to the audience. "I'm giving the people what they want." Stark grinned privately at Loki's words when they caught each other's eyes.

"The people?" Frigga questioned, unrelenting in her endeavor.

"The only ones whose opinions matter to me now. Which narrows it down to exactly me."

Focus gone, he swiped his hand across the scene, and it faded back to his lone, bright cell and the array of criminals and fodder housed in the cells beyond his. All bastards that would be given freedom sooner than Loki would. At least he prevented them from seeing his true fantasies and had cast secondary illusions against the exterior walls for outsiders to see instead. However, Frigga had slipped inside and therefore beyond the first layer of illusions that Loki had cast. The perfect place to see inside Loki's mind and give him those worried looks like she was casting on him now.

"I see one not of Asgard has a place in your dreams. Is there someone you wish to speak to me of, my son?"

"There is no one, Mother. None that could or would return any interest." _Yet still he haunts me. Am I truly so broken a bird that a mere few minutes of conversation and the external observations of critics can have me so drawn to one man in another realm?_ He should have been nothing. There would never be enough time with him, and Loki knew that well. _I should save myself and accept that now._ Yet...

Loki resumed the pacing that took up his time before playing with illusions. "He is no one of interest to you either, Mother, and I implore you not to pry."

"Does it make you feel better? Casting shadows across your room?"

"It certainly doesn't make me feel worse." And it came from his mouth like soured drink. It wouldn't make him feel worse, so he said, but casting this lie was like sticking a needle into his own flesh. On the other side, not seeing Stark - what images Loki could conjure from memory - it was instead like a sword through Loki. He just couldn't stop himself. He wanted so much so badly.

"Cast enough illusions, and you risk forgetting what is real." She scolded.

Real? _This_ was his reality. This cage and this realm so far away and this man that pulled at Loki's entire soul even when Loki was sure Stark despised him. _This_ was Loki's reality, so if illusions meant forgetting what and where he was, was it a risk he wanted to take?

"Precisely."

"Loki..." She didn’t look pitying; she never looked pitying, but concern and worry ruled her expression. "You cannot isolate yourself with just your dreams. Illusions can be valuable and needed, but don't let them be your only company."

"What would you have me do otherwise? Read through the books you sent me? I already have. Invite my friends down for discussions? I have no one left who would claim me as their own. And you can only do so by hiding it from others."

"I do not hide our talks by choice. If it would not harm both of us more, I would proudly speak of and visit you in person, just as I always have. You are not my shame, Loki. You cannot fool yourself into thinking that."

"You may not be ashamed of me, but if the very mention of me brings you a discredit, then it is shame nonetheless."

"Your father-"

" _He is not my father!_ " He didn’t mean to shout and regretted it the instance Frigga's own mask slipped slightly.

"Then am I not your mother?"

A trick. It was a trick. Loki learned his own tricks from Frigga as much as Odin, but he would not let himself be drawn into claiming Odin as anything other than a jailer and a liar of far crueller effects. Beloved though Frigga was by Loki, he would not cage himself into the admittance of a man unfit to be called anything so warm as "father". But to be forced to refuse Frigga in order to refuse Odin...

Loki steeled himself. "You are not." It hurt more to say out loud than when he tried it in his head. But he would fall on his own blade before he accepted Odin as father.

Frigga's fragile smile and pained exhalation of disbelief drove the knife deeper. She stepped closer and crossed the boundaries his words had set, but Loki didn't stop her. Didn't want to stop her. "Always so perceptive about everyone but yourself."

He could refuse her again, turn away her own dismissal of his reasons, but as much as Odin was not Loki's father, Frigga would always be Loki's mother. And he could not push her away for long.

If only Odin wasn't inadvertently forcing them to resort to the measures required for Frigga to see her son. Perhaps comfort would have been easier had Loki's hands not passed right through hers. By the time he pulled together what he wanted to say, her spell was broken to leave Loki alone in his cold cell.

_I'm sorry, Mother._

He turned back to his space and shifted away reality to show a familar open room layout instead. As many details as he could remember, he included or substituted as he liked, but left it feeling as dissimilar to Asgard as he could. Right now, he needed it.

Stark walked from the bar counter he sauntered down from same as the first time, holding a drink for Loki in this version. "Welcome back." Stark greeted warmly.

Loki took the fake drink, tried to uphold the illusion and sink himself into this world. "Thank you. I've missed being here."

"Yeah?" Stark lounged back into one of the nearby sofas, body language inviting Loki closer, and Loki followed without hesitation. "Then why don't you come tell me about it?"

Loki did, ashamed though he might have been if he ever admitted it. But even Mother would never get this truth out of him. She had to understand that. Next time, he might try to explain it better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally getting around to posting these! There are more - about four or five more that are already written from various parts of Thor 2 scenes, but at least three of those need severe editing, so they'll come as I get the strength to rip them apart. 
> 
> Chapter Two of "Only A Heartbeat" is also _mostly_ done; it's just stalling on me now, but _I can feel it so close to a close._ Just. Major stalling. And major busy time at work. Plus home renovation work at house, as well as sewing for home business, annnnnnd trying to keep up with friends. Very busy Hal. -_-


	2. Isn't That The Way

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New tags! Suicidal thoughts, Loki needs a hug, Loki Angst, Introspection
> 
> This scene is still set during Thor 2.

_I'm so sorry._

Of all the legends of last words to loved ones, Loki never imagined what his would be. He never thought that denial would be the last thing he said to her before...

Before...

They wouldn’t even release Loki long enough to pay his respects at her funeral. Yet they called _Loki_ the heartless one.

Their hypocrisy was no great surprise, but this instance hurt all the more to suffer through. Loki's final words to his mother a rejection that, while Frigga plainly didn't believe, they had clearly hurt her nonetheless. Now Loki couldn't take them back, couldn't tell her how much she meant to him, or confess how much her continued love despite all he'd done was more precious than all the treasures in Asgard's vaults.

What had been festering deep in his chest with white-hot claws gripped him tight until his blood boiled and every ounce of regret and anguish poured out his body into a blinding fit. He hardly even realized what he had done until his legs had gone weak, and he collapsed against the back wall of his cage and slid to the floor in exhaustion as he blankly surveyed the damage. His prison looked it more than ever in its disarray of broken furniture and destroyed trinkets. Even in her death, Loki destroyed all she had given him as comforts.

There was strength enough in him for one more scream from him after all.

Hours later, Thor was no welcome visitor; Loki barely had the strength to throw illusions against the wall to hide his state and try to convince Thor to leave, but the oaf persisted and saw through them. Or perhaps Thor just assumed and still had his usual levels of perception - which was to say none at all - for perceiving Loki's spells. He paid no attention to them before except to mock them, why would he be any different now? Whether he knew Loki well enough to distrust any level of composure upon Frigga's passing or Thor simply distrusted Loki in general, Loki no longer felt a speck of dignity in him enough to care. What did it matter? What did anything matter alone in his cage? 

He tried to ask after her, hoped that Thor would have enough mercy to grant him an answer, but his luck was still nothing more than dust. A simple question about their own mother was shot down with little more than a handful of dismissive words. Thor grieved, but he had no desire to admit that Loki did as well. Loki's emotions were never important until they were useful. And apparently one of them was now.

"I know you seek vengeance as much as I do." Thor began, hardly looking at Loki and only fixing him with a discouraging glare on the few occasions when he did. "You help me escape Asgard, and I will grant it: vengeance. And afterward, this cell."

What a thrilling offer. Diminishing Loki to nothing more than a weapon for Asgardian royalty to pull from its boxes, point towards an enemy, and cage it back up when they were done, saved for another day's use. Tired of being right about everything he feared was true, Loki rolled his head away from Thor and gave the offer its due consideration long enough to think of a way to refuse it in a way that would at least enrage Thor enough to give Loki something to remember. 

They both knew Loki would be too smart to take such an unequal deal, even if revenge was in the equation. Nor would Thor come here if he had any other options. Though that was exactly it, wasn't it? So sad that Loki almost wanted to refuse just to spite Thor and see how well or even _if_ he could finally manage without Loki. Yet Loki saw the faintest glimmer of opportunity that couldn't be ignored.

It sounded too good to be true until he realized that it was. Loki's punishment was more than a mere dungeon cell and went beyond Asgard's doing. This was so much more - too much weaving and pulling of strings, so much bigger than an isolated room, and finally Loki saw the design. Finally he realized the weavers that were responsible.

The Norns had created a fate quite complex and fitting for Loki. In a matter of seconds, he realized and accepted how much he deserved it. Whether under the direction and control of Odin or Thor or Thanos, Loki was still the harbinger and enactor of chaos. Had allowed himself to be so because he had no other choice. Perhaps that was not so after all.

Now, as Loki had allowed and brought about the destruction of others, of what they loved, so Loki had to watch as what he loved was taken or refused from him.

Loki tried to compose himself, pull a grin and a laugh and provoke his easily temptable brother by mocking his desperation, and all it did was confirm the second of Loki's losses. Loki had to take a moment to contemplate each of them: that it would take death for Frigga to stop loving Loki, but that Thor had stopped before he even led Loki to his cage almost two years ago. Others still had never cared in the first place, but it had taken until now for Loki to finally lose his illusions of otherwise.

How exhausting it was to reach such thoughts. It would bring him only more heartache to leave here, to discover more things to lose, but when the alternative was _staying here_ , then what were his options truly? So if he could slip Thor's eye for even a moment to escape, then he would take the chance to _have_ a chance before resigning himself to remain in his box. He would take the chance of dying out there before he willingly returned here.

"You betray me, I will kill you." Thor threatened, but Loki hardly took it seriously. He had no fear of death anymore. He was as good as dead already. Death would be a mercy.

For a chance at anything beyond here, Loki would risk it. "When do we start?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing the main fic gets me into bad mental spaces to get into Loki's head space, so I have to write it in small doses. To keep it going a little bit, here's another fic bit from Thor 2 extras that's been written but is freshly edited!


	3. Kickstart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Freedom is life's great lie.

His knees felt weak with relief. Moving in Asgard again, cuffed and restricted or not, it felt like _breathing_ again. Like he had been suffocating in his cage. He didn’t remember there being such a difference in the air, but now Loki was left almost dizzy with the high.

What came after was mildly less pleasing admittedly. The escape itself was a disaster fit for the person that envisioned it; Thor barely got them out of the city alive and employed his usual subtle methods of exit by destroying most of the buildings and architecture he came in range of, all in the name of calling it a diversion and distraction. Obviously the oaf had never learned a thing from Loki over the years - the point of a diversion was to draw attention _away_ from one's self so that a safe and sane retreat could be made in the opposite direction as the enemy's focus. Despite the ludicrous and truly mad idea Thor had, by some miracle of fate and an excess of luck, they survived.

How very kingly of Thor to push a prisoner out of a moving ship without warning, and Loki had his own luck to thank for that. Thor was to thank for _nothing_. But at least Loki was greeted after his fall by the one friendly face left for him on Asgard. Had Loki possessed the energy, he would have returned his old friend's jest, but his latest brush with near-death in that fall (not so many years ago, Thor begged Loki not to let go, how times changed) left him struggling to capture his breath and his footing and restrain himself from shoving Thor and his mortal woman out of their small skiff. Whether a safety net waited for _them_ beneath, Loki hardly cared. He supposed Fandral or Odin would take issue though, so he played good little captive for now and bided his time for the moment of opportunity.

The mission would be slightly more bearable with Fandral's presence, the only one not to attack or threaten Loki yet, so it may have been self-serving to hope that Fandral remained, but Loki so craved being able to choose the company he kept. It was a much more difficult to fulfill desire than he thought it would be. And so he was left alone on a boat with Thor and his magically influenced human woman.

Any intelligent plan should not have allowed for Loki to pilot a ship. He would sooner have driven them into a cliff out of spite, but the narrow doorway to Svartalfheim and the high speed they were using was close enough to a danger. By the Norns, he had almost forgotten the thrill of piloting, the power at his finger tips to control and shift from safety to certain death and back at even the faintest tip forward or back. That alone had him under such euphoria that he opted against crashing and killing them all. This time. Perhaps another day. Perhaps a boat that had more of his enemies on it to make his own pain worth it. Death wasn't Loki's fear; the pain was.

Still, his elation had a short life before Thor dragged him down. Once again, it was Thor creating the trouble and Loki getting them out when afterwards, Loki was ignored in favor of things and people Thor valued more. How Thor clung to that woman like she was his saving grace. Like her presence alone bettered him and made his missteps forgivable. It was useless. Not the woman, _Thor_. All present were well aware that as soon as she left his side and Thor was back with his friends and his father, he would be the same barbarian he always had been.

Watching Thor care for her, as if a blanket would do anything to protect her, and Loki was struck again by that longing ache in his core.

_Whose company would you choose to be in right now?_

He cursed himself internally. There was no point to such thoughts. Hadn't he lost enough? What was the use of clinging to the idea of gaining someone else's love when all he would ever do would be lose it? It was all that ever happened. To death, distance, or to a change of heart, Loki always lost what he loved. What good would it do Loki to seek Stark out on the off chance of acceptance or affection that might take years to develop, only to have a matter of decades to enjoy it before the pain of loss would outweigh any joy of having had it? No, Loki would not allow himself any more such dreams.

And bastard that Thor was, Loki should not let his foster brother fall into the same self-defeating path that Loki was denying himself either. They all knew that Thor would never leave Asgard indefinitely for a woman. If he did, he would always return here. They always ended up back here. Broken and split into wanting too much but always back in the Golden City where the walls and paths were bright as the sun so that no one could see the shadows.

No matter how closed off Thor was, he was always easy to provoke into conversation. The more truthful the threat, the more Thor would be offended. But he _would_ respond, and that was the central goal.

Adjusting his cuffed hands to his lap, Loki sank to the seat by the skiff's wheel and looked over the unconscious form at the bow of the ship, seeking out his opening. He settled on: "What I could do with the magic that flows through those veins."

"It would consume you." Thor was quick to dismiss. Funny how Thor was so sure of Loki's powers when they would provide Thor with an advantage, but the minute they were inconvenient, Loki was no more than an impudent child overestimating himself. Everything was always central to _Thor_.

Loki held back gritting his teeth and pushed the subject back to Dr. Foster. "She's holding up alright. For now."

"She's stronger in ways you'd never even know."

How romantic. It made Loki sick. It was with equal parts twisted pleasure and gut-churning despair that Loki advised next: "Say goodbye." He had to say goodbye. _Both_ of them did. Thor for what he knew, Loki for what he dreamed. They were all just dreams. Dreams of happiness that were a hair's breadth from becoming agony. The ones that deserved long life always left early.

He could practically hear Thor mentally arming himself for the fight. "Not this day."

"This day, the next, a hundred years, it's nothing." _He's nothing. He has to be nothing. All the time invested in him will always be nothing but-_ "It's a heartbeat." Loki pulled himself to his feet, ignoring the weakness in his legs and the hollowed out feeling in his chest that came every time he tried to put Stark out of his mind. "You'll never be ready." _Neither of us will be._ "The only woman whose love you've ever prized will be snatched from you."

"And will that satisfy you?" Thor snapped, and Loki narrowly avoided the scoff that bubbled up behind his teeth. His brother. He never did learn, did he?

"Satisfaction is not in my nature." And why would it be? Every moment he had of it with anyone or anything had been tainted or taken away. It was not in his nature to find satisfaction in any being or act in any of the realms because if he ever did, the foreboding fear of losing it outweighed any ounce of pleasure brought from gaining it in the first place.

"Surrender is not in mine."

Oh, Norns, that again. All his claims to change, and Thor still parroted the same words he ever did. "Son of Odin." It was the worst insult Loki could bring, and he said it with all the derision he felt for the name. Thor would never be anything more if he never allowed himself to grow beyond the headstrong child he was raised to be.

"No, not just of Odin." Thor moved towards Loki, and Loki wasn't liking where this was going. Oh, dear, had he said too much? What a shame. "You think you alone were loved of Mother? You had her tricks, but I had her trust."

" _Trust?_ " It didn't come out even half as venomous as he thought it would. In his head, Loki had a knife to cut the words off of Thor's tongue before he dared repeat them again. He claimed to respect her and then belittled her delicate and powerful craft. The craft that she _trusted_ to share with Loki. Thor had no respect for anyone; he merely had people and things and places he could call possessions of his. Loki told himself not to mention it, and yet the words bubbled out with everything else he had been holding in to maintain the exterior he didn't want anyone else to see past. "Was that her last expression? _Trust?_ When you let her die?!"

"What help were you in your cell?!"

" _Who put me there?_ " Who led Loki to the dungeons in chains in the first place, who oversaw the guards adding more before he was led to the mockery of a trial he was granted, who allowed Odin's sentencing without question or comment- " _ **Who put me there?!**_ "

"You know damn well!" Thor had his hands on Loki's armor a split second after Loki raised his arms in defense only to protect nothing of himself with his hands still bound together, barely able to even push against Thor's chest and brace as his back was slammed against a curvature of the skiff. When Thor's fist came up, Loki only awaited the blow with open eyes, refusing to flinch against the familiar, staring back as Thor finally paused. It still took several long seconds before he retreated with a feeble and pained excuse: "She wouldn't want us to fight."

It twisted the knife in Loki's gut. In her life, Thor never followed that desire of Frigga's for her son's to get along, but doing so in death was supposed to be growth? Loki refused. It wasn't respect to guilt one's self into following the wants of the dead. And just to attempt to slap it back on Thor, Loki aimed to remind him of the difference. "She wouldn't exactly be shocked." Not fighting would be more of a surprise than beating each other bloody. Frigga knew that. Then again, Frigga always knew more than Loki perhaps gave her credit for.

_"I see one not of Asgard has a place in your dreams. Is there someone you wish to speak to me of, my son?"_

_No, Mother. I know what you would have said, but I can't do as you advise this time. I have lost enough. Let me accept Stark as a loss of a dream before he becomes much more than that._

Thor's smile was bitter and not half as convincing as the one Loki put on, but Loki had much more practice. "I wish I could trust you." Thor commented needlessly, only to turn his back to Loki. But whether it was an unintentional sign of trust or just dismissing Loki's threat was an unanswerable question.

Calmer now but far from abated, Loki could feel everything solidifying back into certainty of his next acts.

_If I am to lose everything for the chaos I wreaked in my past, then let it be so. I will use the chains of my punishment to break those that deserve it. I will serve them their own punishment. For if I have nothing more to lose, how else can I be punished?_

"Trust my rage."

Thor ignored the whisper, if he heard it at all, but the words weren't meant for him alone.


	4. Can't Shake the Heavy Weight of Living

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Couple more new tags!** "Graphic Depictions of Violence" is in the warnings section now, for canonical fight scenes and also for an extra-canonical fight scene. I don't expect there to be much more in these extras, but I'll tag anyway. Also Not Really Character Death and Canon Temporary Character Death have been added, as well as Implied/Referenced Character Death.

As if the escape plan wasn't enough, then came the idea for destroying the Aether. Thor had truly outdone himself for this one. Outdone his usual _idiocy_. It consisted of the basic: Loki uses subterfuge to get close, and Thor bashes it with his hammer until things are solved. Brilliant. Unsurprisingly, it didn't work. 

Loki spent all his time racing to protect all of their lives, including pushing Dr. Foster out of the way of an elven implosion device, and nearly at the expense of Loki's own life. Thor rushed in at the last moment to knock Loki from the gravity field, but he had to return quickly to other enemies. It left Loki to deal with four armed dark elves against his solitary self and nothing but a knife to defend himself with. He made quick work of them, their attacks unsynchronized with each other and easy to turn and manipulate for Loki's own benefit. The swift match was almost disappointing for all the energy and rage Loki had need of expelling still crawled under his skin, looking for an outlet. 

He sought sights on Thor on the battlefield, presuming he was succeeding with repeated application of blunt force against a single opponent again, only Thor was, well... distinctly _not_ succeeding after all. Entertaining though it was to watch and delightful as the thought was for Thor to get his own handed back to him, letting him die would be worse for Loki in the longer term. It would paint a larger target on Loki's back, and all Loki wanted was out of the whole thing. The Kursed has his back exposed - a bull's eye too wide to miss and a perfect opening for Loki got take the largest sharp object he could heft and shove it into the Kursed's back and through his chest.

Loki wasn't granted even a moment of triumph. The behemoth was turning to face him. 

Damn. 

_This is what finally takes me then. I will not fear death. I will not fear it. But the pain- no. I must not fear death._

Loki had little enough in his reserves for the simplest spells, but he grasped for what he could to even dampen the feeling. The Kursed was reaching for Loki, he hadn't the ability to outrun the creature, and any defense attempts would be futile. _Focus on how to destroy him._

_I am not afraid of death, I am not afraid of death, I am not-_

It tore into him all at once, and Loki felt the agony seizing every muscle from head to heel. Thor's shout was distant in his ringing ears, trying to find focus amoung the pain.

_I am not afraid of-_

_Death._

He groped for the grenade on The Kursed's belt, felt for the locking pin even as his hands trembled 

_Focus. I do not fear the end if I can take evil with me. For Mother... For what I had and for what- for_ who _I dreamed of knowing. I will not fear death. I do not fear death._

He didn't expect the Kursed to throw him off and inadvertently yank the grenade's pin with him just as Loki had tangled one finger in the ring. The Kursed towered over Loki, unaffected by the metal protruding from his torso like decoration, still dripping a mix of Loki and the creature's blood, as the creature took a step closer as if going for the final kill.

With his arm burning like he'd touched naked flame and now cradled against his chest, Loki said his last words with grim but sharp certainty: "See you in Hel, monster."

_I'll be right behind you._

Loki felt the Shift in the air the instant before detonation. Grotesque as the view was, Loki clung to consciousness just to watch and be assured as the Kursed was consumed by his own weapon. As the last speck of the monster folded in on itself, Loki's strength failed him, cold creeping up from one hand even as his chest felt severed from the inside out - like a fire draped in crackling ice and both devouring his entire body. 

_I am not afraid of death, but please just let it end and spare me this._

The Norns wouldn't allow that though, Loki belatedly realized. He didn't deserve a quick or painless death. 

Thor was at his side too late this time, trying in vain to call Loki back, but the damage was beyond them. Thor was no healer, and Loki could not help himself with so little energy. 

"You fool, you didn't listen." Thor's voice was broken, and Loki had enough of a mind left to be surprised that Thor was upset, though Loki could barely hear it over the roaring in his ears. 

_You didn't listen. You were warned. The Norns warned you. You didn't listen. You knew this waited for you._

"I'm a fool." Loki agreed readily, waiting for the cursed blood in his veins and the hole in his body to finish him. At least it was so much that he could not feel his other losses in the empty spot that the Kursed's blade pierced. "I'm a fool." 

The fire dimmed for just an instant, but a block of heavy ice took his place and sent a chill like a punch through him. Loki curled into it with a cringe as Thor tried to soothe him still, to support him like he hadn't done in years, to listen... 

_I tried to tell you. I tried to tell you to be careful. This path was always going to end in blood for us. It only ever ends in blood._

Loki tried to apologize to so many people that surfaced in his mind in the last, unable to hear his own words when he rushed them out and repeated them over again until Thor shushed him. Ha. Even now, Thor didn't know what to say. And of all the things, he dared to bring up Odin's approval. "I’ll tell Father what you did here today." Yes, Odin would approve of Loki's death, wouldn't he?"

"I didn't do it for him." _I never did it for him. Have you never seen that? I did this for Mother. For you, even. I did this for myself. Please just listen this once._

Thor only looked confused and speechless - his cheeks and eyes red and his mouth pressed shut as if it would stop the tears. He never had much of a poker face, and he never liked to lose. Was this truly considered a loss to him? His fingers dug into Loki's shoulder and back like sheer pressure would hold Loki's soul tied to his body, and Loki found confusion curling into his own thoughts at the idea. He ignored Loki in life, why care so much for his death? Through Loki's blurring vision, he could see Thor's mouth open, the words garbled but obviously beseeching and desperate. But Loki could not and did not want to resist the pull of finally easing into a numb cold as his mind was swallowed into darkness. 

**xXx**

He should not be feeling again. Should he? Was this the next stage? His punishment in the afterlife? To be denied any manner of respite? Would the ghosts of his past visit and torture him next? 

The slightest of movements made his body - his actual body - light up in renewed pain like the prick of thousands of needles through his every muscle. However, this time, his powers came instantly at his call, and Loki almost groaned aloud to feel it flood him. At some point, the bleeding had clotted and seidr surged through his core to mend damaged tissue as he laid there, staring at the churning sky. His skin was covered in a thin layer of dust like a gritty film from the last storm that had passed right over his body and left him feeling like an abandoned thing - offal discarded for the elements to finish off in the middle of a barren tundra. And after Thor spoke like he cared what seemed like moments ago to Loki. 

Just comparing the world as it was opposed to how he remembered it last, it must have been longer though. Hours at the least. So then how did he-

_I didn't listen. Of course they're not done with me yet. What more can they take from me? What more before they're done and can let me die in peace?!_

_Well. Thought I died in peace. Died in peace and disrespected in death. Was there not even a cave fit to hold my corpse?_

Loki drew himself upright the same instant he cloaked himself from All-seeing Eyes and reassessed his priorities. What use was there to dwell on death and his beyond? His life, despite all attempts from so many people to end it, played a part in a higher plan that should be on his list to uncover and puzzle out what They wanted with him. To use him or to continue punishing him better in life than in death, discerning with what he had now was impossible, but Loki had nothing left to lose anymore. What more punishment could They give him? Unless...

Unless he was to be the punisher. He survived his revenge upon the Kursed - that had to mean something. Survival _had_ to mean something. Though for the miracle of life, Loki wasn't feeling so miraculous at the moment with his head pounding and heavy and his temperature running hot and cold back and forth across his skin as fast as his heartbeat. The movement of his own hand caught his eye, and Loki recoiled at the sight of mottled skin the color of cold ash, the flex of his fist bringing out long-forgotten etched patterns down his arm. The Kursed's virus burning and.... 

_I am Loki. Of Jotunheim._

A virus meant to turn victims to ash wouldn't affect an ice-Jotnar the same way. Was his rebirth due to the virus or perhaps to-? 

A tug at his memory, something he once read in an old book too many years ago to count - a mention of the Jotnar ability to change their shape and form at will, but that was just the half of it. They were also adaptive and reactionary shapeshifters. To temperature change, to threat, to injury, to survive the new conditions to their best advantage, their form would shift to adjust. Even to the point that severely injured Jotnar mages were known to fall into torpors in battles, their bodies slowing to a near-stop while their seidr replenished itself. It served to mimic death enough for enemies to assume them fallen and leave them be, gaining the Jotun enough time to heal themselves or for another mage to return to them later. It was a subconscious reaction meant to save their life, completely out of their control. The birth origin that had ruined Loki's life came back to save him when he didn't want it to. Every which way he turned, at each of his darkest hours, his own blood sought to betray him. 

But was this another punishment or was it a second chance? 

If he was to be allowed to endure, to subsist without any of his former attachments, a free agent of chaos with borrowed power burning through him, then Loki already knew his first stop. The potential of visiting a closer realm almost gave him a moment of consideration, but Loki cast it aside with the brief of indulgences. He was in no shape to show himself in this state. Letting everyone else think him dead would be best. No one said that a free life was synonymous with a happy one. 

Another skiff tore through the rift not far from Loki but out of view for the pilot. Loki rose to his feet with all the grace of a golem, his posture uneven and his movements difficult to push through as he made his way to meet the slowing ship. 

A single guard was all Odin sent to survey Svartalfheim. A single guard. Ha. Did Odin want to make it easy for Loki? The Einherjar was unprepared to be face to face with Loki when Loki snuck up behind and hauled him out of the ship, but the guard tried to manage a half-decent fight before then. Not that he got as far as inflicting an injury. Disarming him was too easy, but it evened the playing ground better to Loki's liking. Loki was battling unarmed and unaccustomed to the foreign magics both new and much, much older simultaneously attempting to respond to his calls, but he adjusted quickly and let this be his test subject for perfecting it. The Einherjar thought the struggle meant just that; Loki quite literally cut that hope down when he was ready to be done. 

Slipping on the illusion of the Einherjar's face finally felt like his old magic again. Like home. But he had to admit that the new _tricks_ at his disposal weren't unwelcome. They even showed promise. His flesh felt like leather that creaked with movement, what was contained beneath straining to be released, and he set to giving them a bit of what they wanted. He returned to the skiff and retraced the Path back to Asgard, familiar with the Einherjars' routines enough to imitate them and maintain his illusion. With Asgard's security as it was - which was to say, abysmal and currently nonexistent - reaching Odin was the simplest task he'd had in weeks. 

Odin was of course squatting alone in the throne room instead of going out to comfort or assist his people in the reconstruction efforts, but his callousness would be to Loki's advantage. Loki even mimicked the guard's voice as he approached Odin's turned back with haste. 

"Forgive me, my liege." He held back showing how much his skin crawled to feign obeisance to Odin. "I’ve returned from the Dark World with news."

Odin hardly regarded him but for a single turn of his head and the emotionally unreadable question of "Thor?"

"There was no sign of Thor, or the weapon, but..."

The Allfather finally pivoted to face Loki fully. "What?" Demand more than worry.

"We found a body." Or they would have had Loki truly fallen. But what was the harm in a little lie between liars?

Odin glanced away, and his grip on Gungnir slacked before tightening until the bones of his knuckles looked ready to split calloused and scarred skin. "Loki."

Loki didn't need to say another thing, but he couldn't hold back the dark smile that pulled at his mouth behind Odin's back. 

Again Loki's moment of hopeful triumph was broken, this time when Odin spun on his heel with Gungnir poised to destroy. Loki only had a fraction of a second to throw up his best shield and duck the blast and a split second more to prepare for Odin's next attack. Luckily, the old fool was too proud to think to protect himself beyond his offensive castings, and Loki could throw a powerful but dirty trick of a spell at Odin's feet, ripping at the strings plucked from thin air and sending Odin sprawling backwards off his feet to land hard against the edges of the stairs. Loki swiped a longer dagger from one of his pocket dimensions before Odin could recover, and Loki's aim flew true to the mark - piercing Odin's shoulder and armor like paper as Odin howled.

Grip weak, the spear slipped from his hand as he tried to free himself, and Loki curled his fingers into a fist in the air as the blade burrowed and twisted itself deeper into Odin's shoulder until he submitted and lowered clenched fists away from the handle that was barely visible anymore. Stepping up beside his fallen opponent, Loki used exaggerated leisure to take Gungnir for himself, his fingers brushing the shaft and scooping it into the palm of his hand as Odin watched from the floor. With the surety Loki had prided himself upon after all those lessons in spear wielding during his youth, Gungnir felt altogether like nothing and like such a weight that his whole body could have shivered to behold it. This was no longer a burden pressed upon him at a time when he'd lost his path, this was a prize of war. A prize of _victory_. As he spun the point of the staff to press under Odin's chin and force his head back to bare his throat, Loki felt the power most of all. 

The king downed, face red with pain and rage, and Loki shed his illusion with a single thought. He would have Odin see Loki's true form over him - have Odin know the face that had knocked Odin to the foot of the throne. Odin's eyes widened at the sight Loki made, and the color in Odin's skin faded along with his anger to fear and shock. "What have you done, Loki?" His voice was tight, and Loki drew strength from it. "What have you become?"

It felt far more satisfying than Loki first wanted to admit when a minute flinch of his fingers sent crystals of ice down the staff's length. "I am what you raised me to be: the shadow to lurk outside the light. You always told me Jotnar were monsters; now I've become one. I am what you made of me, Father." 

"After all this time, now you claim me as father?" Odin sneered. "As a means to mock and degrade me?" 

The slightest press and Odin grunted when the sharp tip of the blade drew blood. Loki kept his voice as even as ever. "Mother was right after all. I shouldn't deny that I am your child. And children should care for their elderly parents." When Loki leaned in, Odin tried to shift away to little avail - he was pinned, and Loki _finally_ had his advantage. "Sleep, Father. Sleep, and I will do what is necessary. For Asgard." Odin flinched when Loki touched his forehead, but Odin's eyes soon clouded. "And for Loki."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Loki's not-death is a merge of both my own headcanons regarding Jotnar (I have many. _So very many_ that will make their way into fics some day when I actually fucking get to writing a fic based on Jotunheim) as well as this gorgeous piece of meta I ran across on [Tumblr:](http://halcyonfrost.tumblr.com/post/81250907254/justonehiddles-lokittyhiddlestoner) (http://halcyonfrost.tumblr.com/post/81250907254/justonehiddles-lokittyhiddlestoner)


End file.
